“Closing time, you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.” Those are words that have been echoing in my head lately.
Posts published by “Kevin Castner Jr.”
I think this time around I’d like to start by saying that I am not a very smart man. At the time of writing this, I ran a marathon yesterday, and every step sends a wave of pain somehow all the way up to my shoulders.
In a victory almost nobody asked for, excepting the ever-outspoken student athlete population, cutting-edge nanoscale condoms have been distributed to vending machines across campus.
I don’t know, but I ❤️ it.
Disclaimer: This article is part of The Stupe and is satire
In a bold move by Snevets administration that can only be described as intellectual hubris, a Clarks Scholars-only section of D2 with one elite group was introduced this past semester.
Hello, dear readers. If there are any, I do wonder if there are any Ducks out there who are happy to see my column specifically every two weeks, but I digress.
Whether it’s a pulse or brain activity that determines whether we are alive is up for debate, but the heart definitely plays a very big role in our living, both physically and emotionally.
Despite the title of this article, I am writing it late. “Why?” You may ask. Because I am a forgetful, silly person.
All my finals happen to be next week, which is nice since I’ll finish early, but it’s going to be one heck of a week.
As we approach the end of the semester, many things may come to mind. Some think of the holiday season or of their inevitable hell week where all of their professors have seemingly conspired to make everything due at the very same moment (as per usual), while others think of how the Hoboken wind chill will be reminiscent of Dante’s ninth circle.